Life Drawing
by Fairady
Summary: The human figure is not the easiest thing to draw.


Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Artist!Cas, because I read an artist!Sam fic somewhere and thought the reverse needed to be written to balance things out. No other thought went into this.

Life Drawing  
by Fairady

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The model strips off his robe and lounges out on the chair following the professor's instructions. His tall frame barely fits on the platform, but somehow he manages. Castiel -long since over the urge to blush and look away- feels his cheeks warm a bit as he studies the man, charcoal poised over his paper.

Like all models the man is unselfconscious about his nudity in front of a dozen staring eyes. Not that he has anything to feel self-conscious about. He has the body of a young man in the prime of his life. All long, sculpted muscle and smooth skin. Castiel can admit to himself that the model is extremely attractive.

He turns to his easel to stop himself from staring too hard. A few lines with his charcoal place the legs, one bent up casually. Castiel follows the dip and contours of the man's hips and abs, hands sketching out the sharp lines on paper as his eyes slowly take in his shape.

His chest is broad and tanned, the biceps crossing them absurdly well formed. Castiel runs into trouble defining the model's shoulders, which is usually one of the few areas of the human figure he has little problem with. He stares at them for several seconds and feels the heat in his cheeks growing before he draws a simple line across the paper. He can define them later. Right now he has to get the whole of the model's body down as a sketch to work out the pose and proportions.

The model has long hair that Castiel ignores as he tries to imitate the tilt of the head with an oval. He draws a succession of too small ovals before scolding himself and turning to look at the model. Forcing himself to measure with his thumb.

The model is tilted to the right his face turned towards Castiel's direction, and -Castiel squirms a bit- looking right at him. It's the easiest place for the model's eyes to rest given his pose, but Castiel finds himself becoming uneasy under the steady gaze. He's always preferred to draw the figure from behind. To see without being seen.

He gets the size right and sketches in vague outlines of the placement for the eyes, nose, and mouth. Drawing a few wavy lines to outline where the soft looking hair should be. He takes a step back and cocks his head to one side. Eyes studying the sketch for anything that looks out of place or wrong, but the proportions feel right. A glance back at the model confirms that the pose is close enough for him to work with.

Castiel steps back in to his pad of paper and begins to draw in darker lines. Starting with the feet. Fleshing out the faint, boxy lines he'd laid down at the beginning. He draws in the instep and curves out the model's toes. Careful to get the tricky protrusion of the ankle bone on the left foot that he can see from his angle. The calves and thighs come next with the knees being last. Castiel has always found it easier to draw the knees in that way.

The curve of the thigh leading into the buttocks flusters Castiel. He draws a series of lines that are either too much or too little before getting the angle he needs and erasing his mistakes. The model's penis is nestled between his legs, just enough showing for Castiel to not be able to ignore it. He feels his cheeks flushing again as he stares at that one part of the model's anatomy, always an awkward part for him no matter how many models he's drawn. He feels more like a voyeur than ever before, knowing the model is watching him eye his genitals this way.

He draws a basic shape and moves on quickly to the sharp jut of hip bones. The ladder of washboard abs is next and he draws them out faintly. He'd prefer to define them in shading later. The rib cage of the model stands out in sharp relief on one side from his twisted position and he lightly sketches in the bones. Again, wanting to define that area with shading. An elbow comes next, and for several minutes Castiel works on the complication of drawing crossed arms. Which leads naturally up to the shoulders he'd had so much trouble with before.

Castiel brings one hand up to his mouth before remembering the charcoal smeared all over his fingers. He bites his lower lip instead and studies the model. He starts with the left shoulder. Sketching lightly again before committing to a solid line. The shoulder leads seamlessly into the graceful line of the model's neck, and he works hard to get the line looking right before moving onto the right shoulder. This one is more round than angular, and he sketches in the collar bone with a quick flick of his wrist before he tries to get the shoulder right. He erases his work entirely three times before he gets something that looks right.

"All right!" The professor claps her hands, catching Castiel's attention. "We're taking a fifteen minute break so the model can rest. Be back in class by then."

Castiel steps back from his paper and lets his arms hang down, feeling the slight burn in them that lets him know he's been too tense for too long. Something that always happens when he really gets into his drawing. He averts his eyes as the model stretches out, working the kinks from his own muscles before reaching for his robe.

The rest of his class mill about. Some looking over other people's work, but most of them filing out of the room for their break. Castiel doesn't follow them. He studies instead the drawing he has on the paper. The lines are still basic, but the proportion is accurate. He absently corrects the line of the neck leading up to the scribbled face, sure that the angle wasn't that sharp.

"I guess the face is the hardest part."

Castiel jumps at the voice, nearly dropping his charcoal before turning to find the model standing behind him. Tugging at the sleeves of the too short robe as he stares at Castiel's paper. "What?"

"To draw. I mean," the model shrugs and grins sheepishly at him, "from what I heard it is. Not that I would know. I can't even draw stick figures."

"Oh," Castiel glances back at the paper before looking back at the model feeling awkward. They've always been cautioned not to do anything to make the model feel embarrassed. No pictures, no talking, no laughing. It's best to treat them as an inanimate object. He's at a total loss as what to do now. "Um."

"I'm Sam," the model says, and he has _dimples_ with this smile.

"Castiel," Castiel replies after a several seconds pause where he has to remember to apply the social rules he'd been taught.

"So," Sam glances around the classroom, and Castiel follows his eyes. Shocked to find the room empty. "I was wondering, if you were, um, busy after this?"

"Uh," Castiel blinks and thinks about the history class he has that starts fifteen minutes before his drawing class ends. He thinks about the possible fraternization rules he'd be breaking going with a model somewhere. He thinks about what a bad idea it is to even be considering going anywhere with a complete stranger who stripped down naked in his spare time.

"Just to go to the campus center," Sam adds on in a rush. Almost as if he can see the rejection coming. "They got a new food place opening up today, I think it's a salad bar, and I'd really like to go with someone. You! I mean, I'd like to go out- I mean _with_ you."

Sam gives him a wide, hopeful smile then, and all of Castiel's excuses get burned down in a quick second. "I'd enjoy that."

"Great!" Sam's smile grows broader as people start to trickle back in. Castiel glances at the clock. Fifteen minutes is almost up, and there's still another hour of class left to get through. "Um, I guess I should-"

"Yes," Castiel agrees, and Sam turns away. Hands undoing the belt of the robe before Castiel interrupts him. "And, no, the face isn't the hardest part of the body to draw."

Sam turns back, head tilted quizzically. The robe opening at the top just enough to show off his chest.

"No," Castiel turns back to his paper and taps at a conspicuously absent part of the drawing, "it's the hands."

"Right," Castiel smiles as Sam turns back to the chair, a faint blush rising in the man's cheeks as he rearranges himself according to the instructions called out by the class.

An hour. Castiel sets his charcoal to paper and begins to fill in Sam's face, all the while keeping one eye on the clock.

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End file.
